The Book of Life

 

Chapter 1: Worry free … innocent

such a big world out there

to explore, one step at a time

as we learn to walk.

 

Chapter 2: Big world, but getting

smaller … How do I look?

Do I do it right?

The follies of youth.

 

Chapter 3: Time to leave home and all

we know …
                    on our own to face

the world … we’re adults now

in years … at least. Will we

face mid life crisis?

 

Chapter 4: Still growing,

learn from looking back

at mistakes made …

can’t change the past.

 

-- Sister Mary Ann Henn

 

 

 

In This Crazy World

 

One has to be a clown

to fit in.

He needs laughter,

the loving laughter

of an audience.

Our oversized I’s

are as hilarious

as a clown’s eyes

looking at life

thru glasses

he doesn’t realize

he has on.

Can’t?

Relax! You’re at the circus.

You are a clown.

Me? Me? Oversized I’s, yes,

I can stand on my head

and look at your face.

I can hobble cuz

I’m awkward, but

everyone loves a clown.

Me? Me? Am I funny?

One has to be a clown

to fit in this crazy world.

 

-- Sister Mary Ann Henn

 

 

 

Similar But Separate

 

I wiggle my fingers

and smile … Kitten stares

then looks away.

He stares … slits his eyes,

wiggles his behind,

then pounces on my fingers.

Pounces again and again.

We play his game

of cat and mouse for a while,

then he chews my finger

No sharp bite … pauses,

looks up at me and

leaps on my lap,

purrs as I stroke him.

He reaches up and pats

my cheek, then settles.

Still purring

falls asleep on my lap.

 

-- Sister Mary Ann Henn

 

 

Little girl stares across

the table … no smile … looks

away … looks back … away

and back … finally smiles

then lowers her head and grins

at me from under the table

then from top … eyes sparkle.

We play her game

of peek-a-boo for a while

then she comes over …

hesitates for a moment,

looks up at me

then climbs on my lap.

No purrs, but

eyes sparkle. She smiles,

touches my cheek.

Still smiling

settles down for a nap.

 

-- Sister Mary Ann Henn

 

 

Standing on Tiptoe

 

New to the world

she reaches for

her mother’s hand.

Innocence flows

from her eyes,

from her smile.

“Let’s go slow”

her mother whispers,

but her feet

patter quickly away.

She doesn’t speak

English yet.

 

-- Sister Mary Ann Henn

 

 

 

Copyright by
Sister Mary Ann Henn

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